White Star Line
by tombombadillo
Summary: "Certainly there was no sailor who ever sailed salt water but who smiled - and still smiles - at the idea of the"unsinkable ship".- Charles Lightoller (Castle/Titanic AU)


**I'e wanted this for a while, and have only now found the time to actually get the first chapter done, so. Um, yeah. Enjoy?**

**Disclaimer: WORK IN A BAKERY**

* * *

"It's… big." Katherine Beckett whispers, completely in awe of the giant structure floating in the dock in front of her. "It's…"

"_She's_ big, Katherine." Her fiancée corrects her as he slides a couple of notes into a nearby porters pocket and gesturing to their cart of suitcases and boxes. "And she's supposed to be unsinkable. An unsinkable boat. Can you imagine?"

"It doesn't seem real. How can they be sure a boat is unsinkable?"

"They've tested it and re-tested it. Katherine, believe me, it is fine. Perfectly safe."

"I'm not saying it isn't. I'll be as happy as you to get back to America and the sooner the better, but really, unsinkable?"

"The entire hull is made up of about sixteen compartments, all of which have bulkheads that extend way above the water line and there's eleven watertight doors that can be closed off in the blink of an eye, therefore cutting off any water before it gets to the rest of the ship. It's practically foolproof. Besides, in the highly unlikely of an emergency there is a rather fantastic invention called a lifeboat."

"Some would say that you're just bragging about it all because they're letting us on for free. And giving us some of the best suites on-board."

"Bonuses of travelling with a world renowned journalist, Katherine."

"Hm, I rather think it's because they don't want you to publish a bad word about them, rather than your so called fame."

"You wound me, Katherine. Now, go on. Follow Ryan, he knows where we're going."

The young Irishman who Richard has hired for when they eventually arrive back in the states, steps aside to let her walk up the gangway first.

All around her people are cheering and shouting and calling, screams from the docks below echoed on the decks above. Richard is revelling in it, looking around him with a frenzied happiness that makes her shake her head in affection. Where she is quiet and reserved, he is outgoing and occasionally the culprit of making bad decisions.

Like all good journalists, he's nosy and charming and gets under people's skin before they have a chance to say otherwise. That's what he did with her. They'd met, quite by chance, at a bookstore in Paris. He had been researching, whereas she had been looking for something different to read. Something more adventurous than the cliche, romantic, heartbroken women on windswept moors stuff that she'd been forced to read as she was growing up. Except then, then she'd gone and done the unthinkable. Her parents had expected for her to stay with them in New York until she found a suitable suitor, and then settle down in a nice house and produce a nice little family. But that's not her. Or it wasn't her. She wanted to explore, to meet new people and learn different languages, see the horizon beyond the city. And she did, she managed it. A boat over to England, and then on to mainland Europe. Paris was one of the first stops on her explorations, and it was on her last day that she had bumped into him. She knew, vaguely, who he was, had no doubt read some of his work when she was back in America, but she'd never really imagined him. But somewhere along the fifteen or twenty minutes that they'd stood talking, he'd managed to get her to agree to taking him along with her. And somewhere along the lines, maybe the journey to Berlin and down through Vienna and into the south of France, she'd fallen hopelessly in love with him. She didn't think he would ever feel the same. He was a high flying professional journalist, and they didn't fall for the likes of her. But, on the docks waiting for the boat from Calais to Dover, he'd got down on one knee. It was sudden and impromptu and he didn't even have a ring. He said he'd just looked at her all of a sudden and knew that she was the woman that he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Come hell or high water, that's what he said. She said it probably wasn't the best thing to say when they're sailing back to America on a seemingly unsinkable boat. She joked that he'd jinxed it.

"Miss Beckett, you need to give the man your ticket." Ryan's voice in her ear makes her jump, coming out of her day dreams with a shake of her head. If Richard had been there, he would have scolded the man for speaking out of turn, but Katherine lets it go. He's only trying to be helpful.

The officer, a young man with eyes blue enough to rival Richards gives her a charming smile, one that she returns slightly bashfully as she hands him the tiny slip of paper. Ryan has already marched on ahead and it takes a rather unladylike run to catch up with him. She's not sure where Richard has got to, has probably sidetracked another officer (or maybe even the Captain) in order to get quotes and more information for his article. She's not worried. He may disappear for unprecedented amounts of time, but he always finds his way back to her. She remembers, when they were in a small town in Belgium and she'd been looking at a dress in a window and when she'd turned to ask him for his opinion, he had disappeared. Later, she'd found that he'd found an man, aged and wizened by the years and had spent a good two hours talking to him about the good old days. Richard has seemed so happy and delighted at all this new found knowledge that she hadn't the heart to be truly annoyed, but he had bought her the dress as way of apology. And now she's too caught up in what is going to be her home for the next few weeks to worry about it.

* * *

Katherine had gone on ahead with Ryan, leaving him alone on the docks to admire the Titanic in all her glory. He can pretend he's supervising the unloading of the car and making sure that everything gets where it's supposed to, but really, he just wants to bask in it. The atmosphere, the tension and excitement, it's nothing like he's witnessed before. He's seen small town riots, presidential elections, murders and muggings and kidnaps, and yes, they've been big. They've only added to his repertoire, but riots end, and presidents are shot or run out of office and people die in their thousands every damn day of the year. But an unsinkable ship? That's unheard of. It's a step forward in engineering, a revolution for man kind, and to be the one who tells the world about it, to be the one who reports that back to the nations, that's a huge accomplishment. He could probably retire from the payoff this is going to get him. He could take Katherine out of the city, he could take her out of America all together. She does love her travelling. But she loves him too, she loves him more, and he thinks whatever he decides, she'd follow him anywhere.

Saying that, he thinks he loves her just as much. And if she really, desperately wanted to stay in New York, then he'd have no choice but to stay. He meant it, when he'd asked her for her hand in marriage. He'd looked at her, a passing glance, just to make sure she was okay, and it had hit him. He wanted to marry her. He wanted her in his bed, in his house, in his life, for as long as he had oxygen in his lungs. He wanted to see her swollen with their child, to watch their family grow and step out on their own. And he wants to meet her family. She's told him about her mother and her father in bits and pieces, how they were against this whole charade at first, but she's sure that once she introduces him then they'll understand. They'll be happy because it allowed her to meet the love of her life. And he wants to prove to them that he really does love their daughter.

He hasn't told Katherine yet, wants to keep it a surprise, just for a little while longer, but during their week in Southampton waiting to board, he found a ring. The most perfect ring.


End file.
